National Anthem
by Skelegirl
Summary: Elenwen was known for getting the information or wanted person she so desired, and she was going to get whatever information the Dragonborn had. Whether the said prisoner made it out alive or not. ;Elenwen/FemaleDragonborn;
1. Chapter 1

No one honestly likes Elenwen in the fandom. I know why, but what fun would it be to pair her up with my DB? It's easy imaginable that she'd know you escaped the party, killed several soldiers and a wizard, and made off with a bunch of info. Besides, Elenwen is pretty cute and regal. I hope i got her character right, ugh don't worry she won't be nice and kind and funny bc thats not who she is amirite

I also believe that this chapter is so rushed, and I'll edit it soon. But tbh would it have to be long? I mean, battles in skyrim are usually quick.

Also, Skyrim doesn't belong to me, and never will be.

* * *

"She's not to be trusted, remember that."

Elenwen paced stiffly , in front of twelve Thalmor soldiers. Her arms crossed behind her back, brushing a sharpened Elvin dagger, oozed hostility, and the fact she wasn't a team player.

"It doesn't matter if she plays the forlorn girl, or if she breaks her bow in half and stabs one of you in the eyes with it. Catch and contain her at all costs. You all know what she's done."

The ambassador snarled at them her features cruel across her face.

"Do not fail me. The rest of your flank will be waiting by Knifepoint Ridge. One of our... 'friends' tipped off the wench that there was some riches to be having around the area. She's greedy. If you can't win her with weapons, make a little Skeever trap with a trail of gold leading to it."

Usually Elenwen didn't go on ventures like this, but today was the day she wanted to see shame fresh on the criminals face, to know that Elenwen had been there the entire time, seeing her demise. And to be completely honest, she enjoyed walking along with the soldiers, directing them at every turn.

The Thalmor soldies smirked at the joke, and their hands slid towards their bows, swords, or axes, or had a little fiery magic buzzing in their palms. Their project? To capture the guest that made off with Aldmeri intelligence.

Elenwen wasn't stupid. She realised who was missing during that party, a quiet girl with eyes and hair as black as death itself. She and Malborn had disappeared when a drunken lout made a "great" observation out loud.

At first she thought they were going to mess around a little bit, but when Malborn returned, eyes full of success and spite, the Altmer knew something was wrong.

Damn girl made her loose a few soldiers and wizards. Didn't really help the situation by helping a valuable prisoner escape.  
Obviously apart of the Blades.

"Oh, and in case you were wondering her name- good for bribing bartenders and the local commoners- her name is Eris. A Breton."

The pack of men and women murmered with eachother for a moment, and Elenwen heard more of the name "Iris", instead of "Eris". Oh well. They got the point.

The female elf sent her troops on their ways, watching them scramble over the rough terrain, but somehow gaining their footing. The group of the Thalmor spread across the land, magic gathering in their palms and weapons at their fingertips.

Elenwen smiled in a grim fashion. They'd find her. She was weak, after all. Eris was no doubtly suffering from a disease, because the spies reported her having trouble walking, and swinging her weapon either too earlier or too late. And her eyes were weepy and puffy. Over all, a easy target for her men, They've tackled Frostbite Spiders with more control of their movements.

The Altmer walked up the steep hill into the abandoned camp of the Ridge, stepping over several bodies of bandits that simply got in the Thalmor's way. She nodded at another officer, who prepped his bow and scurried up to the watchtower.

Once inside the false safety of the wooden walls, Elenwen would plan her next move. The Blades would be lost without their little protector, and imagine the flow of intelligence they'd get for their records, once Eris's mind was broken.

Dipping her dagger into a bottle of a paralyze potion (just incase the girl was a little 'troubling' on the way back), Elenwen shoved several papers into her knapsack. Her eyes narrowed in amusement at what the Blades would try to do once they realised.

Bribe? Infiltration of two people? Break-in? They'd be ready. Wasn't one of the two remaining Blades useless?

The Altmer sorceress flickered a flame lazily in her palm, before an arrow wizzed way over her head, and into the back of the High Elf's neck who was currently slumped over in the watchtower.

Cocking her head, she squinted up to see if it was their own. The arrow, glinting dully in the afternoon sunlight, gleamed an orcish green. They'd found her.

Rushing to an edge of a row of the spiked wood fence, Elenwen spied several arrows flying away from the camp at her soldiers, deep in the forest. The obviously poisoned arrows seemed to have no end, clumsily missing their targets most often, the sharpened ends tapping against rocks, and thumping into the tree trunks.

The Soldiers on the ground below drew their weapons and began to scale the trees. The area continued to be silent after several slews of arrows, except from the heavy breathing of the elven armored men and woman, and sliding of bows against arrows.

Quickly Elenwen summoned a few mages that skittered away the small camp.

"Light the surrounding tree leaves on fire. If she's hiding up there, we'd hear her scream. However, be careful. We need her alive for interrogation."

The group of wizards opened their palms, fire pooling in their hands. Within less then a second flames were coating the leaves like water. Elenwen joined them; her magic rushing over her arms like invisible goosebumps.

Smoke billowed off the trees and small branches clipped off and fell to the ground in ashes. Arrows flew out a slower rate; however one punctured the throat of a unsuspecting wizard. Her harms flew up to her neck and in the wizard's last moments she glanced at Elenwen and saw her look of disapproval.

Most of them opted for the bow, arrows peckering the trees with alarming accuracy. The wizards sparked up frost, lightning and flame around the nature, especially around the trees; if Eris tried to jump down and sprint away from them her legs would be encased in the painful magicka.

Several of the Thalmor lay dead in the forest as well their shined armor reflecting the light of the sun. However a few were still up, bows in hand as they sent the arrows where she might be.

If catching Eris was this hard, Elenwen might as well have chained an Ice Troll like a dog and let it after her.

The ambassador quickly reached into her magicka storage again and her hands lit up with electricity. She shot them into the tree angrily. The surviving wizards followed her lead; they sent splattering throngs of lightning into the trees.

This little problem was grating on Elenwen's nerves long enough, and for right now she didn't give a shit about the surrounding nature. The branches on the tree crackled and burned before falling to the ground in a mess of splintered ends and blackened leaves.

The orcish arrows slowed down drastically, but more precise. No longer did a flurry of arrows blindly clatter against armor but one arrow would find its place in one of the Altmer's heads or hands or even in between the armor.

"She's over here!" A panicked shout from the right of the outskirts of the camp brought the remains of the flank running towards him. The soldier who yelled had an arrow that punctured in between the workings for his armor slumped against the tree, which the wanted woman clung to in stealth.

Elenwen smiled in victory. How easy it was to find a criminal with a large group of trained killers. She continued to feel the crackle of sparks in her palm, and walked slowly towards the tree.

Arrows scuffed against bows as the Thalmor circled the tree; Wizards already set on enchanting the ground below with fire.

Through the thick leaves, Elenwen and her group easily saw Eris. She had a bow cocked to fire, but no arrows were seen around her. The only one was a weak iron arrow which was held so tight to looked to already be broken and useless. The criminal's eyes were hard, her mouth tight and her chest heaving nervously. Apparently she knew the end was near?

"Shoot at her legs!" The ambassador ordered one soldier, who nodded and slid an arrow that met her leg that wrapped around the tree's thin trunk with a soft solid sound.

Eris gasped in pain, and her leg weakened against the rough bark. Her right arm abandoned the iron arrow and gripped a nearby branch for safety; while doing so her weathered glass bow slid out of her grip and clattered against a rock. The criminal's face screwed up in frustration and she whirled around in panic, looking for any nearby trees to weakly jump too.

The archer smiled in success, and prepared another arrow. His hands lay waiting for Elenwen's command. The said Altmer nodded at him as she placed a hand loosely on her own hip.

"Now, shoot again at her leg. It seems she won't fall easily." Elenwen sighed impatiently, glaring up at Eris. The man did as told, shooting an arrow right at her thigh, sinking through the thick armor she wore.

It had no effect, as with one small readjustment of Eris's leg it fell out, catching on one of the heavily leaved stalks below. The wanted girl smirked slightly in success, her hold loosening slightly on the branch, and her legs unwrapped around the tree and propped her up on a thick branch.

The Thamlor soldiers either swore or snarled in remark or even glared at the archer who failed at the shot.

"By the Divines, get your shot right!" A wizard remarked coldly.

Quickly the soldier (in shame) lifted his bow as he slid another arrow into it. He circled the tree slowly, his tall legs nearly tangling with each other. Choosing the small patch of skin in between the leg of the armor and the end of the boot, he flicked it past the thick branches.

Eris got to her feet completely; who raced nimbly across the weaker branches, before launching herself onto the ground. Stumbling, the first arrow she hadn't removed pushed deeper into her. Her knees rubbed into the hard ground; as she pushed off her knuckles and broke into a fast run.

One harsh mistake though, she had landed too close to the group of Thalmor, who gave chase as well. Elenwen and her group of elite wizards stayed behind all glowing with victory. What could one tiny Breton do against a whole group of superior Altmer?

Speaking of the wanted woman her feet sliced through the high grass and weeds stealthily, trying to trick and rid of the group of soldiers pursuing her. Their feet thundered behind her, and the sharp slice of arrow against bow.

The rocky area was tough on all of their feet. The high, thick trees blocked the arrows from finding their targets and they had to keep an eye out for any unsavory predators.

Several of the Altmer had magicka in their grasp, and lit their palms to fire at the target. The back of her armor deflected against the heat of their flames but her back felt insanely warm and beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

Botching the thought of sliding the sword from her sheath, Eris gathered a thu'um in her throat. She glanced behind her and saw the Thalmor gaining speed.

Her small legs fumbled under her because of her lack of attention; as the thu'um burst itself out of her throat. It flattened the grass and brought up bits and pieces of pebbles and dirt. Hitting the Thalmor at full force, they were slammed back and dazed at the ringing in their ears. Their weapons hung weak in their fingers or some hit the ground; like some of their owners did, straight on their asses.

Eris took this time to escape and straightened her knock-kneed running; her throat felt dry after the thu'um, and her balance felt uneven. She padded uneasily towards a batch of huge rocks that scoped the entire right side of her vision, and the only direction against the scatted Thalmor, if she could be able to climb, would grant her escape into the other side.

Her gloved hands curled into fists and she looked around the huge rocky mass. It all seemed so slippery and straight-edged after years of rain and violence. Her hands placed against a weathered slab and pulled herself up. Placing her knees on the edge, she took out a small iron dagger and jammed it into the small crevices of the rock and pulled herself closer to another ledge. Her feet scrambled to pull her body up, and it was a teeth grinding process. What made matters worse was the constant look over her shoulder for the Thalmor.

The Breton's breath hitched in panic and she missed the edge of the grey boulder. Stabbing the dagger deeper, her fingers brushed against the stone and squeezed her fingers into it. Dragging her body up until the slab pushed into her chest, she quickly removed the dagger and stabbed it above her other hand.

Finger's poised to grab another rounded edge as her legs crouched to stand again, beads of sweat finally rolled down her forehead.

Sighing in frustration, she stood again her hands propped against the ledges. A well timed jump would land her higher; with the uneven pieces of nature around her, it would be hard for the Thalmor to shoot at her.

Her dagger edged far above her head, and stuck fast in a deep crevice unexpectedly. Swearing, she launched herself closer to her hand to not feel the pain of her stretching arm.

Getting to her knees once more, she flexed her shoulders.

Just to have a Elvin arrow bury into the flesh of her left shoulder. The paralyzing shock gushed down her arms and torso, Eris fell backwards onto the ground, her mouth open soundlessly in the shocking pain.

The criminal couldn't move and in her slurred mind she detected a paralyze potion. Too weak to kill her, but strong enough to leave a mark.

As suddenly as the arrow hit her vision sputtered like faded memories. The last thing the Breton ever saw was the group of Thalmor. Elenwen stepped out of the wounded crowd and sarcastically insulting her race while telling her she was under arrest.

* * *

It feels so rushed. Don't worry, it'll get all together soon. the first chapter is always the toughest for me. I really just wanted Eris to get arrested.

This story is obviously going to be rated M, but let's leave it at T for now ^^

Anyway, it would be great for you to leave your opinion on the chapter, it'll help me greatly :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again! I couldn't wait to finish this chapter. Upon a little research of my own, Elenwen was Ulfric's interrogator and torturer. So, hmm... interesting :D

Also, there are errors in the last chapter thank u very much ling wow u deserve a medal.

I wanted to finish this earlier, but ugh it's been busy. Things will clear up soon! This fanfic chapter just seems so bluh, though -,-

I'm also thinking of writing a Jenassa/OC fanfic, but that's for later planning.

Disclaimed!

* * *

"M-Muh..."

Her surroundings were fuzzy. More like a seasick, drunken poisoned vision as bile raised in her throat; blinking her eyes harshly in the low light. Her throat felt dry and her tongue like a raw piece of leather. Eris straightened her legs slowly whilst trying to flex her sore arms, only to discover they were bound by rusted chains.

Blinking slowly Eris stupidly stretched her arms and legs again. Once again the chains one her wrists clinked again, against the cold metal that lay atop the wooden wall. The contact surprised the drowsy Breton, and she started with a twitch.

Shaking her head wildly, willing the fuzzy sickness away. As her mind and eyes adjusted at a aching rate she recognized a very familiar jail cell. The closed rectangular shape.. small light flickering from a fire... Her wrists chained tightly apart, the same height as her head (it would only be later she would experience a dull pain).

Eris recalled freeing Etienne Rarnis, who she met again when she did a few tasks for the Thieve's Guild. But she couldn't be in the same predicament as he...

Head continuing to spin, she felt her own eyes spinning around in her skull unfocusing after taking in her jail cell.

Jail. She was in jail. After months of persuading and bribing guards and other authorities; or even breaking out of the Falkreath prison she was never chained to a _wall_. And come to think of it, she didn't make it very far out of Falkreath.

Vision clearing, she looked down wearily, and saw her short legs not far from the barred door. The room felt closed and claustrophobic. Inhaling deeply through her nose to clear her slightly oxygen-starved brain, Eris caught the stench of smoke, mold and blood.

A heavy door out of her sight opened loudly, with quiet footsteps above her.

Tensing her muscles the Breton sat up straighter as much as the chains allowed, and crossed her legs. Breathing softly through her nose, Eris realized that the person (most likely a member of the Thalmor) was walking stiffly down the steps. Probably to her cell.

"Shit!" She swore while testing the chains again. Rusted, but solid and sturdy with no signs of breakage. Eris could have used her thu'um, but it would shatter anything around her and would alert every single guard and patron inside the Embassy. They would kill her in an instant.

The footsteps finished the stairs and stopped to the left of her. If her memory served correctly, that was where the torture equipment was stored and used. Feeling a nervous feeling in her stomach, Eris gulped and clambered onto her knees, trying to peer out of the barred areas of her prison cell.

Just seeing through the bottom of the barred 'windows', she caught sight of a robed man with strikingly silver hair. He was currently writing something in a thin journal. The table was facing her, and fearfully the Breton hoped he wouldn't see her.

Once again Eris recalled the aged journals containing details of Ulfric Stormcloak's torture and information about Esbern and Delphine. Was this one going to be about her interrogation? She didn't have a clue.

She stretched the joints in her arms as she continued to strain to see what the Thalmor member was doing. He turned, and caught mistakable eye contact with Eris. A glint of annoyance flickered in his eye, and he set the journal down, locking eyes with her.

"Oh, it seems you're awake. This will make for a pleasant entry in my journal, it's very.. exciting when their first interrogation is without narcotics." His voice was snide, and a smirk graced his face as he rounded the corner to her cell door.

Eris turned harshly and glared at the Altmer. "Damn you to the void. As if I'm going to give up any information."

Her chained hands curled into fists, as her small stature turned rigid with anger, and rather fear.

The Thalmor laughed quietly behind a fist, and unlocked the door. "You're not going to "give up". You're going to gladly give it _to _us; after what we have in store for you."

Fear flickered in the Breton's face, remembering the items set up for torture on her last perusal through the Embassy. Surely.. she wasn't going to be branded like some animal? Or cut up like a dead dear? The Altmer were a cruel race, and wouldn't give a mere human any mercy.

The door squeaked as it swung open. It was hinged badly on the door frame and hung at a angle. As the barred door hit the moldy wall, Eris felt her heart shudder in fear. No doubt she was scared of the Thalmor. After experiencing enough of them on the roadways she knew they thought of human kind as meager, and a great use for slavery.

He walked casually in, one hand sparking out lightning and easily deflected all the badly-coordinated kicks Eris tried on him. Instead The Altmer stamped one booted foot on her ankle, and pressed down until she let out a small gasp of pain.

"Stop playing around, bastard!" Eris sputtered out, her face going red as she tried to keep in her expressions of pain.

"Playing around?" He retorted sharply digging his heel into her already bruised ankle. Tears dimmed the vision in Eris's eyes, and she barely heard the snap of her bone. Pain numbly spread through her body, and she didn't even have the chance to cry out before electrical currents coursed through her body.

The magicka burned her conscience and made her limbs useless. Vision blurring out again, she didn't hear the the chains click open. Eris's body slumped on the ground like a corpse, whilst a blurry darkness settled over her mind and eyes.

* * *

"Wake up." The familiar Altmer's voice made the corners of Eris's mind ache. Once again her vision blurred in and out of focus, tears painfully sprouting from the corners of her eyes.

The Breton tried to curl her legs, but they were tightly bound by leather straps. As were her wrists, as she tried to flex them. Her body felt numb from the sparks, as pain slithered up her veins and made the blood pound in her ears.

"Not used to your new arrangements? I shall give you a moment to wake up. After all, we don't want to anger Herself... She would be less merciful then I," The torturer's tone was sarcastic and snide.

"How in w-what way is this merciful? You've g-got me tied like a d-damn animal!" Eris spat out weakly, tears leaking out of her irritated eyes. Her numb fists clenched; desperately trying to feel anything by pressing her sharp nails into her doughy palms.

"It seems necessary, after all the humans we have had in here..." The mer said thoughtfully. "it's better to keep the lesser race more locked up. Your human race is rather barbaric."

Eris blinked rapidly again, this time her vision clearing.

The torture room remained the same after her escape from the Embassy, It still smelled of mold and blood, and the dirty torture instruments sat on the moldy wooden table next to where she was tied onto the rack*. The branding iron sat cooking on top of the burning brazier, smoke trailing up to the black splotch on the ceiling.

Turning her head nervously, the Breton locked onto the infected torture instruments to the left of her. The edges of the weapons looked to be blunt then resharpened many times. Up to the worn handles, it was covered in faded blood and other bodily fluids. Speaking off, Eris smelled the sour smell of urine.

"Now that we are more acquainted, it's time to ask you some questions. After all, you're that Blade's agent that keeps meddling in our affairs. You keep stealing our intelligence, why not take some of it back, hmm?" The mer walked over to the table, and stroked his gloved fingers down the sharp edges of the instruments.

Eris swallowed hard; having heard stories of the Thalmor's 'interrogation' techniques.

The torturer smiled fondly at his tools, oblivious to her nervousness. "Now, we'll start off easy, but if you prove to much a challenge... We may need to shut up that loud mouth off yours. The Divines know how loud the Blades were..."

Breathing shakily the Breton tried her restraints again. They began to cut uncomfortably into her wrists, and the anticipation of her torture would only worsen her nerves.

"Now, hold tight while I adjust this. Then you can talk." He laughed as he took out a a small sack full of pins, and set it loosely on the table. They looked to be green at the tip, and a ball at the other end.

"Now, this is child's play, but I don't think I have to explain to you what happens? And..." The mer's voice faded out, as Eris shuttered her eyes and tried to go to a sleep-like plane of her mind, a personal drowsy oblivion she liked to avoid. She was prepared to hold in until Delphine sent after her, until she could unleash a thu'um huge enough to shake the barriers of the Embassy, until she was up to her full power. Sacrifices were to be made, and everything was prepared and safe in her mind. The dragonborn can't die so easily.

What the Breton wasn't prepared for, was the sharp pieces of pain that tore through her rags and shredded her peace of mind. Without even thinking, a loud gasp tore from her sore throat and the mer laughed.

She wasn't even there for a full day when her blood touched the rotten floor.

* * *

*RACK= "The rack is a contraption designed to dislocate every single joint in its victim's body. Tied across the device's board by the ankles and wrists, the victim's body is then pulled in opposite directions by turning rollers at either end of the board. Great way of relieving a bad back, if you ask me. Of course, the subsequent pain caused by the multiple dislocations is another story." **looks exactly like the torture bed-thing in the embassy and other dungeons**

**This is probably a filler. Elenwen next chapter.**

**i want to finish more often but... im so scared that i rush. i probably did, but leave your opinion on the story please it will help me greatly :)**


	3. Chapter 3

On this chapter I'm not going to overly fixate on it. I'm just going to let my fingers fly, becauses it's really stupid how much i worry over this!

Thank you for the reviews and favorites, every time I get them in my email, I feel like what I'm writing is worthwhile to others! :)

Anyway, on with the fanfic!

And datura is a opiate, that makes you sleep?

DISCLAIMED!

* * *

By the time the last of Eris's screams and wails left her throat the torturer was done.

At first Eris spat and spoke cruel of the Dominion, not telling anything of the Blade's whereabouts or their plans for the future. Not even how several recruits were out now; fighting dragons and helping townspeople.

The Breton lasted far longer then she could actually stand, using punchline and sarcasm as the mer tightened the leather straps around her ankles and wrists; stretching her ligaments as more tension came from the rack tightening the chains.

The stress on her arms and legs were too great, and she howled once they popped out of their sockets. The pain was rather small then the burns on her bare flesh from the red-hot metal. Several long hours had passed, and Eris was thinking maybe if she let a bit out, they'd leave her mortal body alone.

The torturer laughed at her pleas to stop, that she'd answer whatever they'd ask.

It wasn't like she could ask anyway. After demonstrating a small "FUS" on the mer, he tied and stuffed dirty linen in and around her mouth. When Eris wasn't screaming she was choking on the linen that tasted of a mix of piss and blood.

"Prisoner, Herself asked me to personally get you acquainted with the torture instruments. It's my job to do so. And let's face it, you wouldn't give up anything for the sake of those blasted Blades."

He smirked, cleaning off the bloodied torture utensils with an already filthy rag. The torturer then wrapped the tools up in the rag, and set it on the wood table next to Eris.

"Now that I've explained what will happen in the future if you continue to avoid our questions. If Herself ever got involved... you wouldn't make it past an hour with that typical attitude of humans."

Eris glared at him, her teeth biting into the linens that tasted of iron. Her fists curled limply. How she wanted to slaughter the mer and the rest of the Dominion. To slaughter the "Thalmor bitch". Ulfric was right.

The mer turned his back to the Breton, and quickly scribbled into the small leather journal. The quill scratched the pages creating an irritation in her already aching head. Straining her neck, Eris could barely catch a glimpse of the messy paragraph that delved in and out of the language Aldmeri.

He was obviously unexperienced in his training. He stuffed cloth in her mouth, when the mer had ruined her joints to _make_ her talk. And even the most intelligent man or mer couldn't decipher what messy slur was the journal entry.

The torturer tossed the table on the desk that was against the wall of her cell. "Well, since you have been most unpleasant, what other endeavors will I involve now? I could politely ask a fellow soldier to beat you with a mace, like my Uncle Rulindil had done... Before you killed him."

Eris tried to adjust her wrists nervously. If the said mer was a Nord or any other race of human, she'd worry about getting sexually assaulted. But this was a "superior bred mer". He wouldn't dare touch a Breton. She was basically dirt, in their eyes.

"Well... I suppose this is enough for tonight? Tomorrow you'll tell us all where those Blades are... I can assure you."

He laughed in the haughty way the Altmer all did, and tightened the straps, no doubt leaving marks. Eris cringed at the feeling; the numbness of her shoulders and thighs already caused her discomfort.

The torturer smiled slightly in a amused expression, studying her pained features. "Now, you shall be staying here for the night. I want you up and ready to answer questions tomorrow. The Mistress will be angered at your disobedience.. However, here is something that will make you stay quiet. Humans are rather loud when they are suffering."

The Breton didn't think that was a problem. After hours of agony she was exhausted and ready for a deep slumber that separated her from this situation.

She felt liquid soak the dirtied cloth in her mouth, and after several seconds a liquid fire soaked up all the remaining wetness in her mouth while a few dribbled down her throat. A strange herbal essence filled her nose, and Eris fell into a seasick dream.

* * *

"...Damn it Corelas, have you learned nothing from training? This is exactly what isn't instructed to do! With this large error, I do not believe we will get any kind of information from the Breton!"

"But Ambassador-"

Their voices were murky, as if spoken underwater. One word would slur and blend int the next, as were the voices, making it hard to decipher if two people were actually talking.

The only one of her senses that seemed to be in her control was her hearing. And that was weak already, the throbbing beats of pain were bringing hot tears to her sleeping eyes. In and out were tidbits of an angry conversation, the voices being her torturer, and... the Ambassador herself?

"You gave her enough of that datura to make a mammoth sleep for a decade. If that prisoner is dead we will have nothing about the Blade's whereabouts, which will come back and stab us all in the future. And I do not mean that metaphorically. "

"I-I'm sorry Ambassador-"

Eris heard their footsteps creaking the old wood stairs behind her, Elenwen's voice becoming more brutal and violent. Her footsteps were more harsh and clipped, not stumbling like her torturer, Corelas.

Suddenly getting tortured wasn't so bad a fate.

The footsteps rounded around the rack, and stopped. The Breton imagined the Altmer to be facing her. Was she going to be tortured asleep? Was there even any fairness in that?

Gloved hands probed at her tied wrists. "You've tied it incorrectly. This could easily be shaken out of once she gained enough consciousness."

Her fingers felt soft while firm through the fabric and the Breton would have leaned into the touch if she wasn't so heavily drugged. It didn't matter it if was the Ambassador herself; after hours of torture she would try to embrace a diseased skeever.

Corelas was breathing heavily, and swallowed nervously. "Yes, madame amba-"

"Did I ask you to continue panting and begging like some rabid dog? Let me continue to examine all your foolish mistakes." Elenwen snapped angrily, her fingers leaving Eris's bruised wrists.

the Breton could hear Elenwen's footsteps soften as she walked away, Corelas following her with timid footfalls. "And this journal! How can you even expect anyone to read such illiterate handwriting! Do you even think the Dominion has time to decipher this-"

Corelas, suddenly a not so superior mer, began to babble nervously. Eris could taste the palpable tensions in the air, but what was even more frightening was how Elenwen was silent for a second. Or perhaps it was the datura turning her brain into mush. She was starting to have visions of light and memories, that was spark on and off again which made her fearfully whimper.

"...Get him out of here, now." The ambassador commanded, and a few footsteps Eris didn't recall hearing stepped out.

"W-What?! But Madame Ambassador, It's only my first week in the embassy! Surely you can give me another chance!?" The Breton's former torturer called out frantically, as a scuffle of robes and weapons clanging against medal filled the room.

"Your resistance is futile, Master Corelas." One of the presumed guards commanded. The unsheathing of a weapon stopped his meager fighting as soon as it occurred.

He shouted loudly, full of panic, that seemed to grate against her tender ear drums. Inwardly Eris groaned in pain. Their voices were suddenly closer to her bound body; even if the ruffling of robes seemed so far away.

"I'll to it his remains are returned to Summerset Isle," Elenwen continued, suddenly brushing off his existence. It seemed that once someone was done being useful, they were done being allowed to live in her eyes. "..end him."

"As you order, Madame."

"What?! I-" A clean slice of metal going through flesh, an unwanted end to the words half-way out of his throat. Corelas gurgled in response, before the guards tossed him to the ground. Something heavy fell at the feet of the rack and liquid stained her footwraps. The Breton curled her toes.

The scent of death had no set in of course. But after the brief visit with Namira; Eris could small the dead Altmer's flesh. The fresh pools of blood on the rotten floors. Even in her drugged state the Breton felt intoxicated to bite into his flesh.

The ambassador made a noise from the back of her throat in disgust. The ruffle of fabric meant her arms were sat on her hips thoughtfully."How I do hate having them cut across the throat. Makes such a damn mess."

"Shall we rid of the body?" The guard's monotonous voices jinxed each other. Their weapons sheaved, and the soft clangs of medal as they leaned down for the body.

"Hm... yes. I'll see to the prisoner, and I'll appoint another torturer on day's break." The ambassador ordered, her regal tone draped slightly in fatigue. Her voice had seemed to soften, and a small sniff was heard. If that wasn't the oversee-er of the Thalmor Eris was thinking about, she would have called it cute.

"As you wish." A wet scarping of Corelas's body led to the body shoot, where once upon a time Eris a small group of "friends" she made slid down and ran away. Only she survived. No, her death was obviously still prolonged. Eris hoped the troll choked on Malborn's bones.

The ambassador walked toward the Breton. Her footfalls were softer after her bout of anger. Eris held her breath in fear; she couldn't take another interrogation. Tomorrow she'd try again.

Elenwen seemed to just stand there, observing the captive. The trap door crustily opened and closed, a soft _whoomph_ of Corelas's body.

Perhaps that torturer wasn't so bad after all. He was inexperienced, of course, but that was a good thing. Professionals held pain right at their fingertips, knew where to stab the backs of knees and inner thighs. They knew the body like a map. All planned out and objectives set.

Eris was just and objective.

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HAD TO END IT THERE. UGH. jESUS Christ that was painful. Next chapter my head will be clear, but I had to get this out! I waited too long! And i knew ppl read it!

Please place your opinions about anything. I'll upload when i can. im not leaving this story.


	4. Chapter 4

nEXT CHAPTER I'll bring in Delphine and Esbern. Also,thanks for favorites and reviews! I'm trying to write more, but useless shit from school keeps getting in the way.

rather short chapter, but i just wanted to give ya'll something

Also, if you want to talk or ask me anything, just pm me. Most likely i'll answer very soon. :)

Disclaimed!

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A strange calming sensation cleared the thick ooze in her mind. A strange yellow light filled behind her eyes, and saliva dripped from her mouth. Her stretched joints fused forcefully together, making her wince. The shoulders popped and the purple bruises created by the leathers faded into a light pink. Her stinging purple veins were restored to a more natural shade.

Something in the Breton's mind clicked, and her thoughts became more organised. Her brain put the bits and pieces of information together, and self consciously she tightened her fists slightly.

Slowly the drugged state of mind lifted, and Eris's eyes fluttered open drowsily. The edges of her sight were tinged with a watery pink; not matching up to the rest of her normal vision.

Her head turned at a alarmingly slow rate. And all she saw was the tall form of Elenwen. Her eyes were focused, amber eyes locked on her own gloved hands. She wasn't yelling, nor arguing. Simply there, healing Eris's wounds.

The Ambassador's hands were excreting a warm yellow glow. It made the air around them shimmer, as Eris's bruises faded and her overdose was cleansed from her veins.

A restoration spell? Ulfric had once told her over several bottles of mead that she basically brought him back from the dead. And how she knew exactly what types of "treatments" to give prisoners. "..It was no wonder she became Ambassador in less then several decades.." The Rebellion leader had told her.

The Breton was confused, her mind sluggishly trying to decipher why the leader of the thalmor was healing her. Swallowing her wet throat, she opened her mouth and a made a few grunts.

"W-What are y-you.."

Elenwen's head shot up, her emotionless face sparked with anger. "Why do you think? That datora plant was going to kill you and stop the Dominion's plans. I saw to it you wouldn't die this night, simple enough."

Dominion's plans? What did that mean? Obviously they were not going to do that huge show and torture her for nothing. They wanted the Blades... and the intelligence of the Stormcloak's plans.

It was rather sad, the dragonborn, the almighty mortal with the soul of a dragon, being bludgeoned and interrogated by the Thalmor. Being reduced to nothing; a husk with nothing else to give. And the Breton broke easily, she wasn't very strong in intimidation or persuasion because of her height.

Eris suddenly began to sob unexpectedly. Tears welled up in her dry eyes and her vision stung. Why she began to cry, the Breton would never be able to comprehend it.

"I-I thought I was dying!" Her shoulder's shook while her tied fists clenched in anger and fear. How stupid was she for allowing herself to live when only to prolong her death! But she was the dragonborn, and the only one as far as she knew. And now the Aldmeri had her, and only the Divines knew what they were planning. Was she just some bargaining chip?

Salty tears trailed down her swollen cheeks and met in the corners of her slightly open mouth. She squinted her eyes, a useless effort to stop the waterworks. Deep sobs left her mouth, hiccuped by attempts at speech and trying to calm herself down. Her lower lip sucked in, stopping anymore saliva that slicked to her skin. All the while Elenwen surveyed her.

Clearing her throat, the sobbing Breton whimpered. "I-I was, I-I was-"

A sharp slap colored her left cheek. The action ripped through the lingering drugged veil and make a few tears splatter out of her eyes at the force. A bright red showed up right below her temple, and some of the half-dried saliva arched across her jaw.

Confused, Eris obliviously mulled over the slap, tears still trickling out of her dark eyes.

"I'd shut up right now for the good of us all." Elenwen hissed, her eyes gleaming amber. She leaned back, her teeth in a snarl as she looked over her gloved that had been dirtied by spittle and tears.

As the Altmer fixed her glove, Eris held in another bout of tears. Breath hissed out of her gaping mouth and her hands trembled at the harsh action on her cheek. The slap had also hit her tongue that had tucked inside that side of her mouth, which tingled slightly as well. Her teeth did nothing to soothe the tongue and as far she knew; the tears were far from over.

The Ambassador glanced over at the bound girl and cocked an eyebrow. "What is wrong? Never been hit before? I thought the holy dragonborn could handle more then a few stabs through the chest... At least, after the Blades were done defending..."

The Altmer did a few long strides towards the table, and removed her glove distastefully. She laid it upon the table neatly. "Speaking of defending.. where were those loyal protectors, hmm? Too scared to come out of their damn hiding spot? After all... you were captured. As easily as a rat lead to a cage. "

Eris glared at Elenwen angrily, her chest heaving out of despair. "How fucking dare you. They know I like going by myself. At a moments notice they'd protect me. I am the goddamn dragonborn, not some girl who knows where the Blade's workshop is!"

The Breton spit her remark out with such hostility and aggravation that a few shards of saliva hit her chin and chest. Her fists continued to clench, her nails making crescent shapes on her little palms. "..and they'll come here, and save me. Maybe bring some other people I've helped. And beat your goddamn ass!"

Elenwen turned around at the response, and looked to be suppressing a angry remark. "A dragonborn is more important anyway. Everything must seem to bow at your feet. Not this time. The Blades come here, they'll be dead. Next time you go to sleep, imagine fire burning through the worn leather of Delphine's armor, or Esbern's atronach exploding and covering him with it's shards. Imagine us winning, for a change. Because those types of dreams do come true."

"Those are not dreams, they're nightmares." Eris murmured weakly, her anger fading as the tears dried on her cheeks. She felt more tired then before. After this huge range of emotions, she missed that drugged effect. Drowsily, she leaned her head against the rough torture contraption and watched Elenwen.

The said womer seemed to quiet down as well. She was now jostling through the drawers on the desk, taking out messy and ruined stacks of journals and charcoal rubbings.

In the little light Eris saw the intricate design of Elenwen's now bare hand. It was gold, like the rest of her, but with clean short nails (unlike the Breton's usually dirty ones) and long fingers, connecting to a bony set of knuckles that had a array of small deep scars on them. The stretched skin on her palms were a little callused from her magicka use, as Eris saw slight patterns of lightning and fire markings. The little light glowed around her slightly hunched figure, giving a angelic look.

The Breton snorted. Elenwen was anything but angelic.

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I hate ending it this way! But I couldn't bear to keep it for so long. Leave any comments on how it is. It'll be really helpful for the direction the story shall take :)


	5. Chapter 5

Zerosity helped me realised things I should have included, or even in the AN. Thank you! Honestly I can easily think of people wondering what is elenwen doing wat.

The Blades were non governmental in nature and more of a terrorist group than a spy group for the empire! They tred into land they didn't belong in and caused destruction for what they thought was "right". The empire vouched for them and caused problems for the thalmor.

A little based on fact and my opinion, I hope it seems half right! The story is going to be a teensy bit Au, but not overly so, I promise.

Sorryfor the delay! Honestly, life is very annoying. But I also have a side project, which I'll let out later :)

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Delphine slammed her hands down on the table, fuming.

"Where is the dragonborn?!" She hissed, short nails digging into the hard stone table in the Temple.

It wasn't a matter to loose sleep over. Eris often disappeared for weeks into the Nordic wilds. There would be no sign of the dragonborn in the local towns, It was always circling around the ports of Riften and Windhelm. She would return tanner, with a sackful of jewels and weapons. Eris would always say she was out doing quests and chores to gain the Jarls's favor, but what kind of jarl would send her off with a mace of Molag Bal?

Esbern sat on the chair closest to her, and sighed, shuffling the crumbling papers in his aged hands. "For all we know, she's probably off in the The Rift or Eastmarch area."

The grandmaster sank into a nearby chair with a groan. "She leaves no clue, no note.. For all we know, she's dead in a lake somewhere."

"We'd know if she were dead, Delphine." Esbern said gently, placing the documents on the table. His hands shook slightly, from his mental disability and the actual nervousness. _What if Eris was dead? Would they even know if the dragonborn left this world?_

At that moment, Lydia walked from from the nearby sleeping den having perked at her Thane's name. Her armor as newly shined while her sword was crusty with blood.

"Perhaps she is out with the Thieves Guild," The housecarl said uneasily. She noisily sank into a stone chair at the other end of the table.

Delphine tapped her pointer finger against the table thoughtfully. "The Dragonborn couldn't have well... gotten captured, would she?"

The two other occupants gave her and odd look. Lydia hastily added "She has daedric weapons. What petty bandit could have lived to kidnap her, let alone lock her up in a tower somewhere."

Esbern nodded, humming in agreement. Delphine looked as empathetic as usual, tilting her head slightly.

"..And she genuinely takes Faendal with her-"

"And that's not true." Delphine cut in, "for a week he's been out with Marcurio hunting down a dragon in The Pale. You'd know that, had you been paying attention."

The Nord shut up, a light redness staining her cheeks from embarrassment. Letting out a breath she slumped over the table; angry at the Grandmaster. The room began to fill with a dead silence, so thick it could be cut with a knife and divide the temple into tiny slivers of pent-up arguments.

"..Back to the topic at hand, who could capture her?" Esbern quickly cut in through the tense air, eyes darting between the two women.

Delphine crossed her arms, a name already on her lips. "The Thalmor. They know who she is, and they know where she would go. She's anything but unpredictable. Scampering around to please the Guild."

The speaking women stood up from the table, and hastily walked over to the nearby table that was covered with maps and scribbled nonsense. Ripping a map of Skyrim from a leather journal, she paced back to the table, eyes scanning the map.

It was runny from Esbern's mead slopping across paper and the paper was as thin as a spider's web. Most of the letters scattered across the paper were faded. but Delphine knew the map by heart and without stopping her eyes settled on the lip of Skryim that met Morrowind.

"The Thalmor rarely ever venture into the Rift, as it's swarming with Stormcloaks... same with Eastmarch..." Delphine muttered softly. Her hands gripped the paper tightly, knuckles as white as dragon bone.

Esbern sat up, and tried to tug the map out of her hand. "The Thalmor are not responsible for every thing wrong, Delphine. Eris is just exploring again. Let the girl have fun, eventually she'll have to retire here."

The map fell out of her hands easily as she nodded. "Honestly, you're right. She's been gone longer then this. It's just... more dragons have been showing up. I've recorded twenty five across the country, when usually it's less then..."

She faded out, running a hand through her blonde hair that was streaked with grey.

"You're right.. I feel like something's wrong.." Lydia said comfortingly to Delphine. She straightened her spine and stood up from the chair, nodding to the two of them. "I'm going to search around Whiterun Hold. It may just be a hunch, maybe she's there."

"Let me join you." Delphine said hurriedly, unsheathing her sword and rounding the table toward Lydia. Her sword gleamed new in the soft light, as if it hadn't just slain a Blood Dragon last week. Of course, Lydia's was another story.

Their booted feet tread loudly on the floor their armor rubbing uncomfortably on their bodies. A face of grim determination settled on Delphine's face as she glanced over her shoulder to Esbern who remained seated.

"If we see anything, we'll let you know. Even if it's her body. If nothing's there... we'll leave it alone. She's not captured, but it will put our thoughts at rest. Stay well, Esbern."

The two humans broke into a fast walk, the door swinging behind them. It clanged harshly closed, and Esbern sat quietly in the cold silence that followed. "This is downright eerie..."

If only the walls didn't close so tight around him, without anyone there it felt like he couldn't breathe. After years in the Ratway.. it was going to be so very hard.

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Short and uninteresting, but a filler for what's gonna happen. Elenwen and Eris next chapter, I promise!


	6. Chapter 6

Some more shit this chapter! short and useless, but i wanted to get it out there.

I'm also proud to say there will be a jenassa/fdb coming soon, after this fanfic is nearing it's end, of course. I also wrote a aranea fic in my spare time, to keep the juices flowing and btw i wasn't being lazy. i have a lot of ideas for this story, but i dont want to rush anything.

Disclaimed! (stupid i should put this after every chapter, this is a fanfiction website after all)

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The days flew by quickly before Eris's eyes. The new interrogator was smarter, meaner then the last. He used a nearby soldier to beat at her while questioning her. Strangely similar what Rulindil did to Etienne.

Most occasions he refused to heal her after their daily interrogation, leaving her bruised and bleeding for the night. She rarely slept; with her shattered bones and organs screaming in agony.

In the mornings he would heal the most horrific injuries, ignoring the broken wrists and collarbones. They'd continue on until she fainted, where she'd be rewarded a Courage spell.

He never bothered to tell her his name, and more haughty then any High Elf she'd ever met. His writing was cursive and neat, explaining how Eris was refraining from answering anything and needing a stronger mace.

"Of course I can't answer anything! It's hard to talk when you're in too much pain!" Eris had shouted, shaking her limp wrists that were bound in chains. Her hair was dirty and fell into her eyes far too often, and the rags she wore were a little looser then they were before. Her skin was covered in sweaty filth and blood. She'd soiled herself sometimes. Eris was unable to keep in her piss with the horrible blows to her abdomen.

With another unwelcome warm liquid seeping out between her legs, the Thalmor soldier wrinkled her eyes and backed away. "Filthy human.."

Eris glared up at the soldier. "You'd piss yourself too if you didn't have no chamber pot to squat in!"

"Sir, she's soiling herself again." The soldier said uneasily, glancing over at the Torturer. Apparently the Breton didn't exist right now.

"Well, we'll have to do something about it, hm? How about we lower her water intake to... what, every two days?" He sternly replied. In her line of sight, Eris watched him pour the cup of water she was allowed everyday onto the dirty ground. She licked her dry lips miserably. A dry throat meant no type of Thu'um at all. Unless she wanted to rupture her throat.

Eris was used to drinking water all the time; as she was always running around. She was loosing as much sweat as she did fighting a dragon, as everyday went by.

The soldier then came closer, mace ready to wield at the Altmer's command. Without looking, the torturer nodded. "Now I'll ask you again, Eris. Based from your statements last night the Blades are hiding in the Reach? Some barbaric cave? Joining the Forsworn?"

Eris leaned her head back and shuddered, eyes closing as a drop of nervous sweat trickled down her forehead. "I-I... yes, they're in some cave in the Reach. Nowhere near the Forsworn camps. they'd be obliterated."

"Shame, then. Sevon, give the wretch a few more strokes." The soldier Sevon, stepped closer and landed the mace into her shoulder, the tiny blades meshing into the muscle. Quickly tearing it away and lodging it into another spot, Eris barely had time to brace the pain. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she struggled against the rusting chains. A few more attacks on her thighs and abdomen, the soldier stepped back, and sheathing the bloody mace.

The Breton knew her wounds would get infected and would cause even more pain. Even more sadly, they wouldn't be deadly until a few days of infection. She wouldn't be healed today.

The mace stained her dried blood with fresh dark red beads that complimented her dark eyes. The soldier stopped and looked at the interrogator, like a Dwarven machine awaiting's it's master's command.

"We have so many questions to run through.." the Altmer sighed, stepping from the wooden desk, and around toward the opening of her cell. His footsteps were light, his robes brushing against his agonizingly tall legs. "...the Ambassador isn't' very patient, I'll have you know. She wants think fast and correct. If we don't get the information we need.. There;s a reason she became Ambassador in such a short manner of years. Genius in interrogating. Tortured Ulfric Stormcloak."

He sniffed humorously and dismissing the soldier. "Return to the barracks. We'll end it early today."

Eris glanced up, a twinkle of sarcasm in her eyes. The leaving soldier's shadow passed over them and the smoking coals in the corner of the dungeon. "So you didn't do your job correctly, hm?"

His shoulder leaned against the doorway of her cell, fiddling with the leather journal in his hands. Eris hoped it was nearly devoid of writing or anything useful.

The torturer didn't bat an eye at her response. "I've already gotten what I've wanted. Somewhere in the Reach. Knowing the Blades, they want something big. Always needed that feeling of their ancestor's looking over them with pride. Like you said before, while sobbing over pissing in your cell."

"So I'm free to go?" Eris asked, not enjoying the feeling of the filth she was in. It stuck to her like dried glue and she felt it burrow deeper into her skin whenever she moved. "I just want to get clean."

The Altmer closed the door of her cage, silencing any surviving hope she had. The lock crustily clicked into place. She saw where he stuffed the key.

"Afraid not until further orders." The Torturer said. "maybe we'll ransom you off like the little Breton rat you are."

"I'm going to bleed soon! All over the floor and it's going to be disgusting. She'll think you raped me. So you might as well get me some fresh underwear and cloth!" The Breton nearly begged him. It was going to be embarrassing, even more so then pissing in front of them.

The torturer was ignoring her again, searching through his desk for gods know what. By the way his golden eyes widened it was clear he'd heard what she said. His fingers had stopped, and it was like his body went through repulsion.

Eris snarled. It was pointless. She wasn't going to say anything and they weren't going to do anything with her. She was dead weight, another knickknack on the Thalmor shelf until she was useful again. "Well.. at least give me a bucket to clean myself with, hm?!"


End file.
